


Tricks and Drinks

by BranHowe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester's A+ ass, Gen, Nothing much to say, and some misunderstandings, there's a gay bar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-01 11:02:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18799045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BranHowe/pseuds/BranHowe
Summary: Sam and Dean find out a cursed bar on their usual backroad driving, is this really a case for them or just a Trickster's prank?





	Tricks and Drinks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gabriel_Is_My_Guardian_Angel89](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gabriel_Is_My_Guardian_Angel89/gifts).



> For Idabbleincrazy's 1'st Blogiversary at Tumblr  
> Pairing: Debriel  
> Song: Faith, George Michael  
> Line: “Look, all I know is that I was not groped by an angel.”

The bar was really nice, woods well kept and paint nicely applied, an old cuckoo clock hanging at the middle of a wall between some other old fashioned artifacts. Nothing fancy but you could tell the owner cared for it like their newborn baby. If it hadn’t been for the fact that he wouldn’t have been able to hook up with a nice girl even with the best of lucks in there, Dean would have stayed a night. What the hell, maybe he would stay just for some drinks and enjoy the place. 

The patrons themselves were also quite better dressed than the guys where they usually hanged, it was early but most were already enjoying their second drink. The barwoman addressed them immediately.

“Hello ma’am, I’m agent Collins and this is my partner Rossington” 

Dean mimicked Sam’s motion and flashed his fake FBI badge towards the woman.

“We’re here to talk with the manager about the couple of bar fights that have been going on.”

“Aw, and here I thought for a second you had just rendezvoused from work.”

Both Sam and Dean sent the woman a set of awkward smiles while they asked once more for the manager.

“Down that tiny hallway you can get to his office, he should be there, hadn’t seen him going out of his hole.”

The brothers moved towards the hallway the bartender had signalled them. 

“I swear to God Sammy...”

“It’s a gay bar Dean, it’s kind of easier to make assumptions in this place”

“Right, like not being in a gay bar had stopped other people from making assumptions on us before.”

“I’m telling you Dean, that’s your own fault.”

Dean glared at his brother but kept his thoughts to himself, they had reached the end of the hall the bartender had mentioned and looked into the tiny office. Because of the impression of a dingy hole in the ground the office gave, Dean was surprised to see that the owner didn’t look like a tiny little mouse but was simply the average joe.

They introduced themselves and began questioning him. What had brought them here had been almost an accident, they were just passing by the relatively big town in between jobs but overheard a pair of nosy neighbours talk about how the bar fights had started once more at the the ‘cursed’ bar. Sam, intrigued, began a small chat with the women and found out that despite being in a well located area the local establishment was constantly changing owners. Things always began to go sour after a week or two from reopening. Many different things could be marked as the culprit but it was still odd to see that while the rest of the bars around downtown were thriving, this well located place barely survived, no matter what name the business had. 

This time, it had been a series of bar fights what was starting to give the bar a bad reputation. The owner was lumped over his desk chatting with the guys, you could tell he was feeling distressed about it but obviously didn’t know how to fix it. It hadn’t been one person or accident in particular the one that started the fights but they always started on Friday night around midnight. He could hold up his watch and see it happen, f it wasn’t a spilled drink it was a leering patron or someone slipping or a bad choice of words. Considering it was Friday, Sam and Dean asked the owner if they could come back later.

“Sure, no problem... You can also stay around now if you like, there’s not much buzz on this early anyways, could do some help to have you guys on display. First round’s on the house.” Despite the obvious objectification in the sentence, Dean could tell the guy was not trying to flirt with them. Something was odd and it took him just a moment to guess.

“Wow, wait a second, you’re not gay?”

The guy looked at him and chortled.

“Is it that obvious?”

Sam was now looking at the man surprised.

“Why would you have a gay bar if you’re not gay?”

“Well, to be honest, the gay bar was not my idea, it was my brother’s. He’s the one with the queer and the money, I’m just holding the front while he earns the big bucks at the big city to pay the mortgage.”

The guy signaled the bartender from the hallway and the woman immediately pulled two beers out for Sam and Dean while they parted with the owner, now demoted to caretaker.

“Well I gotta tell you man, a bar fight every week on the clock? There’s definitely something odd going on here.” 

“So what do you think? Spell? Curse? Cursed object?”

“Ha! If it’s a cursed object then the whole bar should have to be cleansed. Good luck on finding a priest that will bless a gay bar.”

“Don’t be like that Dean, I’m sure we can find one. Not everyone in the church are against gay people.”

Dean just shrugged and gave a sip to his beer, after a moment he turned back to his brother once more.

“Something doesn’t add up.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, all we know is that it happens in the bar but cursed objects only work one way, heck, even ghosts always have a MO. You heard the owner, it never is the same person or the same kind of accident.”

“ _If_ they are accidents… But yeah I get you, also no one has died. It’s just been small sleight of hand stuff.”

“Sleight of hand huh?”

The eyes of both brothers lit up with an idea.

“Like a trick, or a joke?”

“Do you think we could be dealing with a Trickster?”

“Maybe more of a prankster but it’s a start… What should we do? Do you wanna go back to the hotel and do some research?”

“Dude, we’re two hours from the thing, whatever the hell the thing is happens. I don’t want to stay an entire week if we miss our chance.”

“Well yeah but what can we do then? This is just a hunch Dean, we need to do some proper leg work.”

“OR… We could call an expert.”

Sam frowned a second before he realized what his brother meant. 

“Dude, no. I don’t trust that guy. Besides, who knows if the idiot’s gonna show up?”

“Oh he’ll come alright, you just need to give him a good enough prayer.”

“He’s been gone for six months now, doing whatever the hell it is he’s supposed to do in Heaven. What makes you think he’ll show up now?” 

“Oh come on Sammy, let’s call him, I bet you fifty he’ll come.”

Sam eyed suspiciously at his brother’s shit eating grin.

“Twenty.”

“Spoilsport. Alright! Twenty it is.”

Dean joined his hands and lent over the counter in silent prayer. A moment later, the front door swung open and in came Gabriel; dark polished shoes, tailored burgundy pinstripe pants and a tight oxford grey vest with a chain hanging from it towards an actual pocket watch, hair carefully brushed into perfect waves. Every head turned towards him the moment he stepped inside. 

Gabriel looked around until he found Dean waving at him from the bar. Sam’s mouth was actually open in surprise, was this really the same asshole he had to deal with about the sugar intake at the bunker on a daily basis months ago? Frustrated, he pulled out his wallet, took a couple of bills and smashed them in Dean’s hand. 

“Well colour me surprised, if I didn’t know you better I’d have sworn you were just trying to fool me when you told me to dress up and join you at a gay bar.”

“Seriously Dean!? You prayed to a goddamned archangel just to ask him to come hang around with you at a bar? A Gay Bar?”

“Well, if he had a phone I’d have called him.”

Sam turned his full bitchface on, it was more than enough time that he had given up the idea that his brother should leave at least some things sacred. Gabriel and Dean just laughed out loud. Soon enough, Gabriel was sitting by their side enjoying a beer and began to chat with them, about how everything was going on in Heaven, with Dean mostly but Sam was not complaining.

“I gotta admit Dean-o, your timing couldn’t have been better, I was this close of dumping everything and leaving for the Bahamas. Everyone is still so stiff I’m afraid I won’t be able to get the stick up their asses off in less than a century...”

The last couple of hours went by in a flash, the place slowly but surely filling up. Gabriel’s conversation was so entertaining even Sam had forgotten everything about the case. Almost by midnight, Gabriel spotted the juke-box and beelined through the now considerate amount of people towards it to select a song. A moment later, the chords of an organ that sounded really out of place in their current location was interrupted by the strings of a guitar. Dean realized quickly what song it was and began snorting. He liked Gabriel’s sense of humour.

 _Well I guess it would be nice_  
_If I could touch your body_  
_I know not everybody_  
_Has got a body like you, uhh_

Dean leaned towards Sam to tell him something when out of the blue he felt a hand behind him sliding down to grab his ass. Sam immediately realized something was wrong starting at his brother's features but he couldn’t see what was going on because of the angle he had in relation to Dean.

“Oh for the love of… Dude! Hands off!”

A guy that had apparently mixed his shots and was quite drunk leaned over Dean, oblivious to his complaint.

“Ssssthe problem baby? 'At ass needssssome attention...”

Dean was struggling to be civil about it but the moment the asshole groped his rear like he owned it he saw red and swung a fist towards his face. In a matter of seconds everything went downwards. Two of the drunk guy friends, most likely just as drunk as he was, went forward to punch Dean back only to be met by Sam and Gabriel throwing them back with equally closed fists. The last friend, about to charge all three of them in a rather adorable act of camaraderie was stopped on his tracks when the bartender slammed a baseball bat on the counter between both parties. 

“Knock it off right now or I call the police!”

Dean, Sam and Gabriel stood there while the group of five was thrown away from the establishment by the security guy and the owner. The poor guy seemed bummed. 

“I am so sorry agents, I really don't know what to do to make it up to you.”

“I know what you can do.” Interceded Gabriel quickly. “I want you to give us that Cuckoo clock”

Sam and Dean changed sights puzzled, the owner also looked funny at Gabriel.

“That old thing?”

“You got a problem with it?”

“No, no, it's alright. My brother's gonna miss it but there's no real attachment to it. You can take it.”

The owner quickly went to pull it off the wall and place it in Gabriel's hands thinking it would be better to act before he could back out of the offer. Once outside with a brand new Cuckoo in hand, Gabriel asked the guys to take them to any empty parking lot at the outskirts where he could work.

Soon enough, he was standing in a chalk circle, surrounded by some runes and proceeded to smash the clock against the concrete. And to the brother's surprise, out jumped a small man-like creature dressed in dark green.

The thing tried to run away as soon as it took hold of the ground but crashed against an invisible wall when he reached the chalk trace, falling backwards on the floor with a soft thud.

“And what kind of manners are those, running away from your saviour, O’Leary?”

The figure stood up a bit startled and turned around to face Gabriel with a face full of surprise.

“I cannae believe it… Loki? Is that really you?”

“The one and only. My fellow folk.”

O’Leary smiled from side to side and approached Gabriel with open arms. 

“Loki my man! I had not heard from you ever since we parted ways a hundred and twenty years ago!”

Gabriel, currently posing as Loki, and O’Leary exchanged greetings and began to chat about what had been of them recently. This way, the brothers found out how the miniature man had been in that clock.

The clock, made with an iron frame, had actually worked as a trap. Constantly draining his energy and not allowing him to do more than a couple of tricks like making an object fall or place small illusions on people’s minds. Boldened by the lack of faith humankind had developed, he had been careless around a human years ago and next time he noticed the human had thrown him in there, asking for his gold. He used to come everyday to the attic where he had storaged his captive.

Every day this man came and asked him to give him all his gold, every day he answered no. For O’Leary it all turned down to a matter of time. Either the man got fed up or he got bored. Unfortunately for O’Leary, a third option appeared out of nowhere.

The man suddenly died. And meanwhile O’Leary waited. He waited a day, then two then a week, a month, five months. More than six years passed when he finally felt the presence of more humans in the basement. His jail-clock moved, he heard the conversation of these two people. The clock was going to be sold, along with many of the other items of the diseased.

O’Leary found himself in shock. He had been forgotten just like every other item that had belonged to this man. Before he could make himself known, the clock where he was trapped had been moved from a cart, to a train, to another cart to a ship. And from there all the way to the USA, where a random person had bought it online.

He tried to call out to someone, anyone but apparently no one knew his tongue and he eventually gave up. Then, after years of depressed silence, he made a plan. He’d use what little energy he could gather and make some chaos. Hopefully someone would catch up. Thankfully, it had been the boys and Gabriel.

As a token of gratitude, the Leprechaun gave each Sam and Dean a charm for good luck and a safe passage note in case they ever wandered into fae territory while Gabriel prepared a fae portal towards Ireland. Once the rift that O’Leary had used to go back home closed Dean sighed content.

“Well, that went quite different from our normal gigs but I really can’t complain.”

Sam chuckled. “Yeah, it’s actually refreshing for once… So what now? Wanna go back to the gay bar?”

“Are you kidding me? I’m not risking any of my body parts any more.” 

Both Sam and Gabriel laughed at Dean’s expense.

“Oh come on Dean-o, that poor guy was hit straight in the face with a fae confusion spell. You cannot really blame him on his actions.”

“ **Look** , you can say whatever you want but **all I know is that I was not groped by an angel.** ”

Gabriel lifted up a hand while leering at him.

“That could be easily arranged.”

Dean glared at the archangel while Sam bursted out laughing.

“Don’t you even think about it. And you, _you_ stop laughing and get on the car before I leave you stranded in the middle of nowhere.”

Sam was still chuckling when he stepped onto the car. Gabriel already at the backseat. Dean was still up for another round of drinks but he was adamant on finding a different bar this time, one where his ass would not be under immediate peril, thank you.


End file.
